


Riding Out

by Fr333bird



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Come as Lube, First Time, M/M, Pining, Size Kink, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fr333bird/pseuds/Fr333bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine isn’t usually attracted to men who are bigger than he is, but Percival is the exception to the rule.  Canon era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one that isn't new, but I had forgotten to put it on AO3 until now. I love Percival *sigh*

Gwaine loves sex.

He loves sex with a variety of people in a variety of ways. 

He loves the shy not-quite-innocence of teenage girls and the confident assurance of older women. He likes slender limbs and tiny waists that he can span with his hands, but he also appreciates generous breasts and a rump that you can sink your hands into while you’re fucking. 

He prides himself on being sexually versatile. 

Gwaine likes cock as well as cunt and has fucked his way through various stable boys, squires and several of the knights. He usually tops, but he’s been known to let another man fuck him when he’s in the mood for something different. He’s happy to admit that he enjoys being drilled by someone who knows what they’re doing with their cock. To Gwaine, there’s no shame in taking pleasure wherever you can find it.

However, when it comes to his own sex, Gwaine is more selective than he is with women. Not a tall man himself, he’s never been attracted to big men whether in height or in build. Something about their size intimidates him. Gwaine’s a dominant lover, he likes to be in charge even when he’s on the receiving end and somehow the idea of fucking or being fucked by a man who dwarfs him physically makes him uncomfortable. 

But when he claps eyes on Sir Percival for the first time, everything changes.

Percival is a mountain of a man. 

Gwaine has never seen anyone quite so huge before. His head is barely level with Percival’s shoulder; he has to raise his eyes to even get them as far as Percival’s perfect blond-stubbled chin and ingenuous smile. 

Gwaine bristles on principle and is terse with Percival at first, but very quickly finds that it’s impossible not to like the man. Percival’s charming, full of fun and loved by everyone. But all Gwaine can think about is what it would be like to bed him, to be fucked by him, to ride him like some mighty charger.

It’s not just Percival’s height that’s impressive. It’s the width of his shoulders, the curve of his sturdy arse, the strong lean muscles of his arms that are constantly on display due to Percival’s preferred style of sleeveless tunic. It’s as though he wears it just to taunt Gwaine with those lickable biceps.

Gwaine’s flustered in Percival’s presence and it’s not a feeling that he’s used to. He watches Percival, and Gwaine knows what he wants... but he doesn’t know how to make it happen. He doesn’t even know whether Percival is interested in men, or women, or both. Gwaine listens to the castle gossip but Percival’s name never comes up so Gwaine is none the wiser.

XOXOXOX

One afternoon in midsummer Gwaine and Percival are riding out together, patrolling the northern borders. It’s another stifling day in a stretch of unusually hot, dry weather and the heat and dust rise from the ground as the horses’ hooves strike the trail. 

Percival is riding in front and as always, Gwaine’s eyes are drawn to the span of his shoulders, the width of his neck, the strong flex of his thighs in the saddle as he rises and falls with the horse’s rhythm. 

Maybe it’s the distraction that stops Gwaine from seeing the hole in the ground that Percival’s horse managed to miss, or maybe it would have happened anyway. But Gwaine’s mare stumbles when one of her hooves catches in the rut, and she whinnies in distress, limping when she tries to get back into her stride. 

“Shit,” Gwaine curses. “Wait up, Percival.”

He slides from the saddle in a smooth movement and calms his mare, talking soothingly to her as he lifts her foreleg, examining her carefully for damage. 

Percival stops and turns his horse, watching as Gwaine leads his mare a few paces on foot. 

“She’s definitely lame,” Percival says, frowning in concern as Gwaine pats the mare’s neck. “It doesn’t look too bad, but you should ride with me. There’s no sense in making it worse for her, it’s a long way back as it is.”

Gwaine knows that Percival’s suggestion is a sensible one. There’s no logical reason that he should refuse. But the thought of being so close to the huge, blond man sends a thrill of something fearful and exciting down Gwaine’s spine. 

“Okay,” he shrugs, attempting nonchalance. 

They rope the horses together and Gwaine climbs onto Percival’s horse and seats himself with Percival pressed close behind him. 

And they ride.

They go at a walking pace, somehow fitting for the lazy summer heat. Gwaine’s mare is still struggling even without the extra burden. 

The sun drops lower in the sky and the shadows start to lengthen, but the heat barely wanes in its intensity. The heat from Percival’s body pressing against Gwaine’s back is almost unbearable as it builds between them. Gwaine feels moisture trickling down his spine and soaking into his hair at the nape of his neck. 

They ride in silence. All Gwaine’s usual banter and confidence are stripped from him with Percival so close. His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his throat is dry from something other than the heat.

He can smell the fresh tang of Percival’s sweat, filling the air around him, wrapping him in the sweet-musky scent. Gwaine shifts in the saddle, trying to ease the pressure on his prick which has been hard in his breeches since Percival’s huge bulk slid into place behind him. His cock’s aching, leaking against his skin, impossibly aroused by the proximity, the heat and the gentle movement of the horse between his thighs. 

As the blue of the sky deepens and pink streaks start to appear in the west, the trail brings them alongside a shallow river, meandering through rush-lined banks. Percival pulls his horse up when they come upon a grassy stretch by a narrow sandy beach bordering the clear water. 

“This looks like a good place to camp tonight,” his deep voice rumbles in his chest, sending vibrations down Gwaine’s spine that settle somewhere behind his balls. “Your mare needs a rest and I need to cool down.”

The saddle lurches slightly as Percival swings his leg over and dismounts, leaving Gwaine perched high, enjoying a rare view of the top of Percival’s head, now level with his groin. Gwaine’s cock twitches at thought of how good Percival’s head looks down there and he fights the urge to adjust himself and risk exposing his blatant desire.

Gwaine dismounts too and avoids looking at Percival as they deal with the horses, feeding and watering them before tying them to a nearby tree.

“Right,” Percival grins at Gwaine and starts to strip. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait any longer to get in that water.”

He turns away as he kicks of his boots, peels off the layers of chainmail, tunic, breeches. Gwaine watches helplessly, unable to tear his eyes away as Percival’s skin is revealed. His face and arms are tanned from the sun but the rest of him is creamy-pale, strangely vulnerable. His body is glorious, all tight solid muscle and smooth flesh. Percival balances on one leg, freeing his foot from his breeches and the dip of muscle in his buttocks and the brief glimpse of testicles makes Gwaine weak. He’s never wanted anyone as much as he wants this God of a man before him.

Without looking back, Percival strides into the water. Ignoring the shock of the cold he plunges in when he gets waist deep and emerges, shaking the water from his hair and laughing with the joy of it.

He turns then to look at Gwaine, standing frozen on the shore.

“Well come on then!” he sounds incredulous. “How can you wait? It’s wonderful!”

He’s staring, expectant. And Gwaine knows that if he hesitates that he will just attract Percival’s attention all the more.

Willing his aching prick to soften a fraction he slowly starts to pull of his clothes, kicking off boots, peeling off his mail and sweat-soaked shirt. He sighs with relief as Percival turns away and dives back into the water, striking out into the middle of the channel. Gwaine’s cock is a lost cause, but he hopes that the cool water will help for now, then later maybe he can sneak off to relieve himself in private before he sleeps.

As he slides his breeches down his legs his erection springs free and he grips it, squeezing and moaning quietly. Percival is still splashing, swimming up-river against the current and Gwaine can’t help himself. His eyes clench shut and his hand starts to move, harder, faster. All rational thought has departed in the wake of his desperate need for release.

He doesn’t notice that the sound of splashing has stopped.

Percival’s voice shocks him back into reality and Gwaine’s hand clutches his cock reflexively as his face flames in mortification.

“So, Gwaine... are you coming, or what?”

The tone of Percival’s voice and the wicked grin on his face makes the double meaning of his words eminently clear. 

He’s standing in the shallow water near the bank and his body glistens as the water streams off him. Gwaine’s eyes follow the trails down his body from to his cock, and through his haze of lust and humiliation he notices three things.

Percival’s cock is hard.

It’s perfectly in proportion to the rest of his impressive frame.

And it’s pointing directly at Gwaine.

Gathering up all his courage and usual confidence Gwaine replies. “Not yet I’m not,” and raises an eyebrow challengingly at Percival.

Gwaine moves then, stalking towards the huge man like a hunter advancing on his prey. His hand is still on his prick as he approaches, stroking slowly, aware that Percival’s eyes are watching his movements.

When Gwaine reaches Percival he drops to his knees without a word. He clutches the giant’s hips with both hands as he sucks his generous cock deep into his throat in one swift movement. Percival groans and his hands move to Gwaine’s head, wrapping themselves in his hair and tugging painfully. Gwaine resists any attempts to control his movements and does exactly what he wants, licking and sucking and teasing the head of Percival’s cock with a devious tongue.

Just when Gwaine thinks his fellow knight is about to come undone, he’s surprised when Percival’s huge hands pull him up, lifting him like a rag doll and wrapping his legs around him. Gwaine clings to him instinctively as Percival starts to move towards the shore.

Gwaine lets out a shocked laugh as Percival tosses him down on the grassy bank, looming over him with a hungry expression on his incongruously boyish face. Gwaine’s about to assert his dominance and protest at being man-handled -- much as he secretly enjoyed it -- but his thoughts are derailed as Percival moves down and takes Gwaine’s cock into his mouth. His enthusiasm is commendable if his technique is a little lacking, but the sight of the bunching muscles in his shoulders as he hunches over Gwaine more than makes up for the occasional slight scrape of teeth.

Gwaine feels the tension in his muscles and the fire in his belly that heralds his release, but he knows what he wants from the man above him after he’s come. 

“Don’t swallow,” he gasps out, his tone commanding even on the brink of orgasm.

Percival’s blue eyes flick up to his and his brow furrows questioningly even as he sucks Gwaine’s prick so deep that his cockhead hits the back of his throat. The sight of those blue eyes on his is the trigger. Gwaine digs his fingers into those huge shoulders as his body bucks and shudders, his seed spilling into Percival’s hot mouth as he keeps sucking.

“Don’t swallow,” Gwaine repeats, voice hoarse. “Hold it in your mouth.”

He takes back the control, pushing Percival off his cock and wriggling out from underneath him. He turns over, tucking his knees under himself and presenting Percival with his expectant arse.

“Use it to make me wet, open me up,” he orders. “I want you to fuck me.”

Percival makes a strangled sound in his throat, unable to speak of course. 

Gwaine hears him spit and then mutter. “Fuck, Gwaine... _fuck!_ ”

“That’s the general idea,” Gwaine wiggles his arse impatiently, but the press of a finger shuts him up and makes him whimper instead.

He wants Percival’s cock so badly. 

Gwaine’s whole body is burning with the need to be filled; he’s aching with it, the itch crawling under his skin. He can’t hide his desperation. He hangs his head and shivers as he’s breached by those long thick fingers. The knowledge that they’re slicked by his own seed makes it even more perfect.

Percival’s breath is ragged as he pumps with long slow strokes. Gwaine can feel the heat rolling off the other man’s body as Percival arches over him, his cock digging into the back of Gwaine’s thigh, slippery-wet. 

“I’m ready,” Gwaine gasps.

He turns his head to watch as Percival spits in his palm, his saliva mingling with the semen that’s already drying there, then smears it on his cock.

The perfect burn as Percival finally enters him is indescribable. He tries to be gentle, to take it slow; but Gwaine is insistent, reaching around to grip Percival’s hips, slapping at his arse and urging him on.

“Harder, faster... _more!_ God gave you a cock, boy. Fucking use it!”

Percival’s moans are broken sounds of pain-pleasure. He grasps Gwaine’s shoulder for leverage and fucks him so hard that Gwaine can hardly bear his weight on his arms anymore.

“Pull out,” he gasps. “Get on your back... I want to ride you.”

Percival complies. Gwaine’s arse aches at the loss as his thick cock slides out but they rearrange themselves quickly. 

“Hold your prick for me... that’s it...” Gwaine straddles Percival, facing him as he lowers himself down, groaning in pleasure as he’s filled again.

He rides Percival now, hard and fast, just the way he likes it. Percival grips his hips and thrusts up into him, fucking him deep and thoroughly. Gwaine can tell that the other man’s close, his movements become erratic and a deep flush creeps over his neck and chest. Gwaine doesn’t slow down. He wants to see Percival come, to pull his climax from his cock with the cling and clutch of his body. 

When Percival comes he roars and his whole body arches in ecstasy, quivering as his cock swells and pulses, filling Gwaine’s arse and slicking the slide of his thrusts. Only when Percival’s shuddering has subsided does Gwaine grip his own cock and bring himself to completion again, clenching around Percival’s still-hard cock as his cum splashes onto the smooth skin of the huge man beneath him.

Gwaine collapses then, boneless, shattered. 

He sags onto Percival’s broad chest and rests there, heedless of the semen growing sticky between them. He listens to the rapid, steady beat of Percival’s heart and smiles a secret smile as he feels Percival’s huge hands tentatively skate over his back and shoulders.

Percival is the first to break the silence between them. 

“I’ve never done that before.” 

Gwaine lifts his head and quirks his eyebrows questioningly and Percival continues. 

“I’ve never done that... with a man.”

“Oh!” Gwaine’s surprised. He’d assumed that Percival knew what he was doing despite his hesitancy. He certainly seemed to know his way round another man’s cock and arsehole. “Well... did you like it?” He’s not sure what else to say.

“Oh yes,” Percival grins, his handsome face warm and teasing and Gwaine grins back, relieved. “But I think I need to try it again a few more times, in different positions... just to make sure I’ve explored all angles thoroughly.”

“Well I’m sure that can be arranged,” Gwaine smirks. “But now I’m sticky, I’m hot again, and I’m fucking hungry. So let’s deal with those things first, eh?”


End file.
